I had a brush with fame this morning that's got me all amped. That plus the pot and a half of Graffeo's dark french roast maybe, but I'm certain the light-headedness is from talking with … with … Lawrence Welk's personal assistant, Margaret. That is, she was his personal assistant. She's not really that any more. Because of his being, you know, dead.
Margaret, as one might expect from LW's assistant, is a very nice lady. Her memories of her former boss are warm, and listening to her gave me the feeling of being wrapped up in a toasty soft comforter. "The cameras didn't show him to his best advantage," she said. "He stiffened up around them. He was much more charismatic and funny in person. I saw him walk into a room and the place was electrified. He played Madison Square Garden in the 80s, and even then his numbers were huge, like a rock star. I bet most people don't know that."
Maybe I was a little too cool for Mom and Dad's Saturday night favorite TV show when I called, but I swear by all that's chiffon and sparkly, Margaret's sincerity melted my edges. She's even going to send me a coffee mug!
Oh, and I called because I'm researching a story. But I think I got an inspiration for another (can't … resist … saying it) wunnerful piece.
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